


The Bottom of This Bottle

by talkativelock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Oblivious Castiel, Pining Dean Winchester, Romantic Comedy, Shipper Benny, Unbeta'd, alchoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkativelock/pseuds/talkativelock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean swallowed his pride. “I've got a crush on the guy at the liquor store.” He admitted. His best friend's eyebrows shot up like lightning and Sam lost his composure. “Shut up, Sammy!”</p><p>Or, the one where Dean isn't an alcoholic. He just really, really, really likes the guy at the liquor store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bottom of This Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> It's RomCom-ish. I couldn't resist writing it, I don't know why.
> 
> Unbeta'd, I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Dean is not an alcoholic. He knows what alcoholics are like, how they work. His dad was an alcoholic, okay, and he would never go down that road. Besides, it would kill his little brother. The point is that Dean knows himself and Dean is not an alcoholic.

The bell on the liquor store door lets out a happy little peal as Dean shuffles in from the mid-January cold. He glances to the counter immediately, scanning it for the lone worker, and when he doesn't see the owner he bites his lip and glances back over his shoulder at his baby parked out front.

Maybe he shouldn't have come.

With a sighing breath that tastes like glass and the slightly bitter flavor of the alcohol on the shelves Dean shuffles over to the beer section. He stares at the different flavors of beer and wonders if he should just get one this time and save himself from the embarrassment of buying a six-pack every day for almost a week straight. Or maybe he could try wine.

Dean is not an alcoholic.

“Hello, Dean.” A deep gravelly voice says behind him and Dean nearly jumps out of his skin. He whips around to find that the store owner just slightly in his personal bubble again, holding a box of what looks like champagne bottles and staring at him. His eyes are wide and blue and just looking at him makes Dean feel a little light headed.

“Cas,” Dean breathes, still breathless from the scare, unable to tell if his heart is pounding because of Cas's sudden appearance or the presence of Cas himself. Dean's heart is weird like that. “Don't sneak up on people like that.”

“Apologies.” Cas says seriously, the name on the tag says Castiel but Dean likes calling him Cas better, and tips his head to the side. “Is there anything I can help you find today? Perhaps another six-pack?”

Dean feels his face flush. “Oh, no, uh, I was actually thinking about trying wine for a while.” He sends Cas a winning smile, to which the liquor store owner doesn't respond at all. Like always. “Do you have any recommendations?”

Cas nods, still staring at Dean with unblinking eyes the color of first place ribbons and his chapped full lips remaining in a flat line. “Perhaps. Do you prefer red or white wine?”

“Uh...” Dean feels stupid and he's sure his face is scarlet but he tries to play it cool. “I don't really know? Never had wine before.”

Cas keeps staring for a long second and Dean feels as though the other man might have figured him out. Then Cas turns on his heel, leading the way over to the wine and talking as he goes. He moves fast, sure steps propelling him forward, and Dean feels like he's scrambling to keep up.

“Riesling is good for beginners. It's a white wine so it will be bitter and dry, though not as much so as others. For a beer drinker I would suggest it as my first recommendation.”

Cas stopps in the wine section, adjusting the rather large box to his hip with ease and Dean temporarily marvels at Cas's nonchalant display of strength that doesn't match his wiry frame, and plucks a bottle of practically transparent yellow-green liquid. He turns around and offers it to Dean. He takes it and focuses on it, trying very hard not to pay attention to Cas's unblinking eyes on his face.

The label declares that it is indeed a Riesling. Dean turns it over in his hand, glancing at the price on the side of the bottle. Fifteen dollars. Not bad.

“Awesome. Thanks, Cas.” He says with a grin, glancing up to see that the other mans eyes are still on him.

“Is that everything for you today?”

Dean has to lick his lips before replying. “Yeah, I'll just get this.”

“I'll ring you up, then.”

Cas doesn't ask for Dean's ID anymore, and why should he? They were on first name basis. Dean pays for the wine and leaves with a grin and a 'see ya, Cas!' that hopefully doesn't make him look like too much of a moron.

Dean wasn't an alcoholic. He just really, really, really liked the guy at the liquor store.

…

When Dean got back to his apartment he was glad to see that no one was home. Dean set the Riesling on the counter and went about making himself some chili. Halfway through eating it he found his eyes always going back to the wine Cas had picked out for him.

What the fuck? It was one in the afternoon and Dean was not an alcoholic.

By the time he had finished his chili and washed the bowl he had already figured everything out. He just wanted to see how it tasted. Cas had picked it out for him and he wanted to know what it was like. He didn't have work today and he was only going to have one glass before he saved the rest for later. Drinking Cas's recommendation wine at one thirty in the afternoon did not make him an alcoholic. It made him a fool with a crush, but not an alcoholic. Dean was not an alcoholic.

It took him a while to figure out how to open it. When he finally did he decided to smell the cork like they did in the movies. It smelled bitter and a bit sugary. Dean didn't have a wine glass so he settled for a whiskey tumbler instead. He poured himself a couple of fingers. It was yellow, it turned out, the greenish tinge brought to the wine by the green glass bottle. Dean raised it to his lips, sniffed the wine experimentally, then took a sip.

Dean would never admit it to anyone, but he choked on his first sip of wine.

The flavor was bright, not like the whiskey and beer he was used to drinking, and it made his mouth feel dry and his nose tingle. He coughed lightly, grimacing with the flavor. It was kinda sweet. Gross.

He downed the rest of the tumbler quickly.

It was only a few minutes later that he realized that he didn't have the slightest clue how to close up a bottle of wine. He ended up drinking the entire thing by himself over the course of an hour in order to stop his fifteen dollars from going to waste, feeling light and bubbly instead of heavy and clumsy like he normally would when he got buzzed. Dean threw the bottle away and cleaned out the tumbler in order to keep anyone from figuring out that he had been drinking wine of all things. He then drank three glasses of water in quick succession to try and speed up the sobering process.

When Benny walked in Dean had just finished his last glass of water. He wasn't feeling as buzzed but he also wasn't feeling up to speed either. He grinned at Benny, trying for innocence. Benny took one look at him and groaned.

“Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean laughed because he wasn't doing anything. “What'd ya mean?”

“It's four. Tell me you aren't drunk.” Dean scowled.

“I'm not drunk, Benny.” Buzzed maybe, but certainly not drunk. Dean poured himself another cup of water.

Benny narrowed his eyes as Dean took a long drink. He could feel himself sobering up quickly, his body metabolizing the water. “Did something happen today, brother?”

Dean and Benny weren’t really brothers, it was just a nickname that Dean had never questioned. His own brother would never call him 'brother'. Sam was more likely to call him 'Dean', or 'Jerk', or the occasional 'you stubborn asshole'. It was Sam who was the stubborn asshole, though. Also, he was a freeloading asshole because he practically lived at Benny and Dean's apartment. He always whined about horrible roommates at his dorm and real food at Dean's apartment but Dean didn't pay much attention. He was sure Sam just wanted his good wifi. And his alcohol, since Sam wouldn't actually be able to buy it for himself for another few months even though he'd been drinking regularly since Dean turned twenty-one.

Benny raised his eyebrows at Dean expectantly and Dean very pointedly didn't think about Cas or wine or how much like a high schooler he was acting. Seriously, who buys fifteen dollars worth of shit from somewhere and then drains it in an hour just because someone attractive and smart and quirky and possibly perfect works there? Worse, who does it daily? He was turning into such a girl.

“Nothing happened, man. I'm fine. What should we make for dinner?”

…

Dean promised himself he wouldn't go back to the liquor store for at least a week. He was also not at all surprised to find himself pushing open the door on his way home from work the very next day.

Cas looked up from his place behind the counter where he was reading, probably something classic that Dean had only heard about but never gotten into, when the bell signaled Dean's entrance. His eyes were as blue as ever, hooded lightly in that perpetual tired way, and he blinked just once.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean smiled, feeling light like the wine the day before. “Hey, Cas. Whatcha reading?”

Cas didn't actually smile back, though Dean thought his eyes looked happy. “The Count of Monte Cristo. Did you enjoy the wine.”

No. “Yeah, it was awesome.”

Cas's face seemed to get brighter, though he still didn't smile. “Would you like to try another?”

Dean shrugged. “Sure.”

Fifteen minutes later Dean walked out with another bottle of wine under his arm. There was no hiding the wine. Someone was going to give him hell, if not Benny then his brother who would surely be around today.

…

There actually wasn't much complaint about the wine, which was stronger and more bitter than the wine before it, though he caught Sam and Benny sharing significant looks when he wasn't looking. He considered asking, but thought better of it. He didn't want to hear whatever they were thinking.

The rest of the week went much in the same way. At some point in the day Dean would go to the liquor store, lie through his teeth that he liked the wine he was given and get another. Then he would go home and drink the entire thing, sometimes with the help of Benny and/or his brother and sometimes not, before downing a few glasses of water and going to bed. At some point he had graduated from cheap wine to expensive wine and Dean was wondering if it would kill any of his really slim chances if he asked Cas to slow down a little bit for his wallet's sake.

Of course, Dean's chances were practically none in the first place. Cas hardly smiled, didn't seem to get any of Dean's jokes, and all of the flirting and signals Dean was trying to send seemed to fly right over his head. Cas was either too straight or too socially blind to get his signals and it would be just Dean's luck if he was both.

Dean walked into his apartment with something expensive and foreign sounding under his arm only to see Sam seated on the couch, arms and legs crossed and expression pinched in a spectacular tantrum of a bitchface. Dean's senses were on high alert immediately.

“What's wrong?”

“Another bottle of wine, Dean?”

Dean felt his face heat up. “It's none of your business, bitch.” He waited for the responding 'jerk!' but it never came, his brothers face morphing from 'I'm about to deal with shit I hate' bitchface to 'I can't believe you're keeping secrets from me' bitchface. Oh shit, Sam was serious.

“Since when are you a wino, Dean?”

Dean scowled back reflexively. “Am not.” Sam arched an eyebrow. There was ' fuck you I don't believe you' bitchface.

“You drink a bottle of wine a day. And that's just at home, Dean. Who knows what you drink when you're out.”

“I don't drink when I'm out.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam's voice was hollow. “Benny mentioned that you were drunk at four in the afternoon last week. Four, Dean, really?”

“That was one time!” Dean protested. “Besides, I was only buzzed. I just didn't want to wait until the evening to try it was all.” He realized too late how that sounded.

Sam looked hurt and wrecked and pissed all at once. “You can't do this to yourself, Dean, you can't do this to me. Come on, we made a pact. We're better than this, you're better than this. Don't turn out like Dad, please.”

Dean growled at his brother, slamming the wine down on the counter with more force than necessary. “Dammit, Sam, I'm not an alcoholic. I don't even get drunk off this stuff, you know that. Hell, I don't even like this stuff.”

Sam threw his hands in the air, the ever popular 'I don't understand and it pisses me off because I understand everything' bitchface firmly in place. “If you don't like it and you don't get drunk off of it why do you keep buying it?”

“I have a crush on the guy at the liquor store, alright?” Dean shot back before he could think. Sam froze and Dean froze and for a moment the entire world stood still.

Then Sam started laughing.

…

When Benny came home fifteen minutes later Sam was still giggling and Dean was starting to consider smashing the half empty bottle of whatever-it-was Blanc over his gigantic younger brothers head.

Benny walked up to the Winchesters tentatively, which just proved that Sam was stage one of an intervention. Benny was probably wondering how it went and if they would need a different approach. “Everything okay in here, brother?”

Sam started giggling anew, stuffing his fist in his mouth. Dean gave him a death glare. “Just peachy, Benny, thanks for asking.”

“Does someone mind telling me what's going on in here?” Benny asked. When no one was forth coming he prodded again. “Soon?

Sam seemed to have gotten himself mostly under control. He waved an arm wildly in Benny's direction. “Oh, tell him! Tell him what you told me, Dean.”

Benny turned his expectant expression to Dean and Dean took a very long drink of the bright, sweet, disgusting wine. He slammed the now empty whiskey tumbler down on the table.

Dean swallowed his pride. “I've got a crush on the guy at the liquor store.” He admitted. His best friend's eyebrows shot up like lightning and Sam lost his composure. “Shut up, Sammy!”

“Is this some kind of euphemism I'm not familiar with?”

Dean scowled, crossing his arms and giving Benny a glare. “No. It's not. His name is Cas and he likes classic literature and fine wine and his eyes are really fucking blue. Stop laughing Sammy.”

“I just can't believe this.” Sam gasped between fits of giggles. “How much money have you spent on this guy already? Without asking him out?”

Dean set his jaw stubbornly. “It's none of you business, bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam shot back.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Benny put a hand up to stop their bickering. “Let me get this straight. You've been spending around fifty dollars a day to talk to a guy for fifteen minutes about wine you don't even like. Am I getting this right?”

Dean grimaced and flushed, which was all the answer Benny needed. He dropped his hand and shook his head.

“I don't believe this. Are you a fifteen-year-old girl, Dean?”

“No!” Dean shot back.

“Then stop acting like it.” Benny; ever the voice of reason. “Just go ask him out already.”

Dean fidgeted uncomfortably. “I don't even know if he's into dudes like that.”

“Ask him.” Sam said.

“If he turns me down I wont be able to go back there.”

“We'll go to a new liquor store. Or I can by all the beer from now on.” Benny shrugged.

“I haven't dated in a while.”

“You haven't been Mr. One-Night Stand in a while either.” Sam pointed out.

“He's way too good for me.”

Benny and Sam both rolled their eyes at the exact same time. “You're a moron.” Benny groaned while Sam insisted, “No one is too good for you.”

Dean shrank down in fear. “I'm not getting out of this, am I?”

“Brother, you're going to ask that poor sucker out so that you stop spending our beer money on this expensive shit.”

Dean sighed. “You're right. I'll do it tomorrow.”

Benny and Sam both looked pleased.

…

Dean came home with a bottle of expensive wine under his arm and a very sheepish look on his face. At Benny's glare he insisted that it hadn't felt right and that he'd do it the next day.

The next day came and went, Dean came home with wine and Benny started getting impatient.

“He just got a new shipment of rum in and he was really busy. I didn't want to bother him.”

“Brother, if I didn't know you better I'd say you were a coward.”

The next day wasn't much better and Benny warned him that if he didn't get to it soon his best friend was going to stuff him in his truck, drive him down there, and abandon him until he gave in and asked Cas out.

If things continued they might need some real wine glasses, Dean thought to himself privately.

On the fourth day Sam looked at Dean from across the room with a strangely constipated look on his face and asked “Why?”

“Why what, Sammy?” Dean asked back before taking a long swig of his wine.

“You've never hesitated to make a move on any guy or girl before. Why now?”

Dean shrugged, purposefully not looking at his brother. He kept his eyes trained on the evening news even though he couldn't tell you what story they were covering. “It just feels important, is all. He's important. If you met him you'd know.”

He could hear the smile in his brothers voice when Sam replied. “Maybe.”

Another week went by, filled with wine and empty threats until Benny was fed up. He made good on his threat in February on a Thursday night, shoving Dean into his beat up old truck and practically kicking him out in front of the liquor store. Benny peeled away with a squeal of tires that was completely unnecessary. Dean sat on his ass in front of Cas's store in shock. He couldn't believe that Benny had actually dumped him there.

He recovered quickly, standing up and brushing himself off, cursing his best friend under his breath. The door bell jingled behind him and Dean froze.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas's voice came from the doorway and Dean turned slowly, smiling as brightly as he could manage.

“Oh, hey Cas. How's it going?”

Cas was leaning out the door, most of his body still in the shop while his head poked out so he could talk to Dean. “I am well. Were you not here a half an hour ago?”

Dean ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about this. My friend just dumped me here.”

“I saw.” Cas said, voice grave as though he was talking about a horrific tragedy. Dean couldn't figure out why he found it so endearing. “Did he not like the wine?”

“Eh, he's more pissed that I keep buying it and drinking it. It's getting kind of expensive, you know.” Dean laughed nervously.

“I see. I apologize, I will offer you cheaper wines.” Cas hesitated and Dean found himself moving a few steps towards him in concern. Cas never hesitated. “Of course, generally speaking, one would not drink an entire bottle of wine in one night.”

Dean felt his ears warm and he blurted: “I'm not an alcoholic.”

Cas nodded, eyes doing that thing again where without curling his lips he still looked as though he was smiling. “I know.”

“Oh.” Dean said dumbly.

Cas tilted his head again. “Are you going to come in? It is very cold outside.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean headed quickly towards the door. Cas leaned back inside and Dean had to speed up his steps slightly to catch the door before it closed.

“I was just about to close up.” Cas gestured to the protective bars that were over all the racks of alcohol. “When I finish I'll give you a ride home if you'd like.”

Dean's mouth went very dry. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

…

It turned out that Cas drove a beat up silver PT Cruiser and Dean didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. He opted for neither, especially when it didn't start the first two times Cas turned the key. When the engine finally rumbled to life Dean glanced over and could have sworn Cas was red around the ears. It was hard to tell in the half light.

“I could fix that for you.” Dean offered.

“Fix what?” Cas asked as he put the Cruiser in reverse and pulled out of the space.

Dean gestured at the dash. “The whole not starting thing.”

“It's not necessary.” Cas intoned. “Which way should I turn?”

“Left.” Dean replied, twisting his ring around his middle finger and trying very hard not to think about getting turned down by Cas. “But I could. I'm a mechanic, you know.”

“I would not impose.”

“I want to fix it, though.” Dean said, probably a little too earnestly. Cas didn't reply immediately and Dean could have hit himself. He looked over and saw that the liquor store owner had furrowed his brow, his mouth a hard line. Dean's heart sank and he kept his focus out the front window.

After a long moment of quiet Dean swallowed and was forced to whisper. “A right at the next light.”

“You do not need to fix this Car, Dean.” Cas said at last. “It is not mine. While I love my brother I do not particularly wish to take advantage of our acquaintanceship for Gabriel's sake.”

Dean tried to make his relieved exhale as discrete as possible. He was sure he'd somehow been too forward. Instead Cas just didn't want to take advantage. Dean's heart felt strangely light.

“It's no problem. Any family of yours is a friend, right?” Dean looked over to Cas to find his lips curling up just slightly. That was the closest to a smile Dean had ever seen from the solemn man.

“If you knew my brother you would not be saying that.”

Dean laughed. “I have a brother too. He's annoying sometimes, but I love that kid to death. Take a left at the stop sign.”

Cas turned smoothly and Dean knew it would only be a few more minutes until they reached his apartment. He wondered if he was the only one feeling the electric charge in the air. It ran over his skin and made him fidget in his seat. He felt like all this small talk was just covering it up, like they were playing at ignoring it until someone acted on it or it faded away.

“I have many brothers.” Cas said, but the way he spoke made it sound like some sort of admission.

Dean shrugged. “I only have the one. Technically I also have a half-brother somewhere, but we're never in contact.”

Cas nodded. “I see.”

“If you take a left here it's in the complex on the right.”

Cas did as Dean directed and suddenly Dean's throat felt tight. He was being a girl about this, he knew, but it was like he had told Sam before: something was different about Cas. The Cruiser pulled into a parking space and Cas turned to look at Dean. Dean looked back and for a moment there was a tense silence.

“Thank you for the ride.”

“It was my pleasure, Dean.”

Dean knew he should get out but he didn't move. He just kept staring at Cas, his blue eyes and plush lips and sharp lightly stubble covered jawline. Cas didn't look as though he wanted Dean to go, not really. He almost looked expectant, as though he knew what Dean was planning on doing and had been waiting for it since the moment he stole Dean's breath in the liquor store.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Do you wanna go out sometime?”

Cas did his endearing little head tilt. “Go out?”

Dean swallowed nervously. “Yeah, just you and me. We could go to dinner.”

Cas nodded gravely, as though the fate of the world was at stake. For Dean it felt like it was. “I prefer to stay in.”

Dean blinked, his chest suddenly feeling open and empty, exposed. “Oh.”

“I think I would like to stay in with you.” Cas said, still nodding. His eyes seemed far away, as though he was thinking it over. “I would like to get to know you better.”

Dean felt like he was flying. “Good.” He said, then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Cas's.

It was an impulse kiss. It was stupid and reckless and the most amazing thing in the world. Cas's lips were chapped and soft. Dean breathed in through his nose, moving his lips lightly against Cas's, and the smell of the other man was amazing. It was like alcohol and dust and rain and something else that Dean wished he could identify. Cas kissed back and the soft, warm drag of his lips on Dean's was heaven.

Then Cas pulled back, eyes wide and blue and still unblinking. “Oh.” He said, his tone more confused then Dean thought it should be. “I had no idea.”

At once everything shattered.

“I'm sorry.” Dean blurted, somehow unable to look away from Cas's wide eyes. He fumbled for the door handle behind him.

“Dean.” Cas said, voice calm and imploring. It was almost like he was asking for something, but for what Dean couldn't tell. He really didn't want to find out.

“It was a mistake, forget it.” He said quickly, still trying to find the handle and suddenly wishing PT Cruisers were normal on the inside.

“Dean.” Cas said again, this time irritation making it's way into his tone. Dean found the handle just in time, flicking it open and practically falling out of his seat in his haste to leave. He dimly registered the engine dying.

“Thank you so much for the ride, Cas, really.” He called and he heard a door slam on the other side of the car.

He looked up to see Cas striding around the Cruiser with purpose. He closed the door numbly as Cas walked right into his personal bubble like he always did.

“Dean, please listen.” Cas said, his face less than a foot from Dean's and his expression frustrated at best.

Dean swallowed and thought of at least three things to say back, none of them polite. He settled with a weak. “Okay.”

Cas regarded him for a moment, light frown on his face as he seemed to scan Dean's eyes. Whatever he was looking for he must have found because the crease between his eyes disappeared after a long tense moment. Then Dean found himself with chapped lips against his.

This kiss was different than the meeting of lips in the car. It felt like a desperate apology. Cas opened his mouth slightly and caught Dean's bottom lip between his, pulling on it lightly before retreating.

“Oh.” Dean echoed dumbly.

“You simply caught me by surprise.” Cas's voice was soft.

Dean nodded. “Sorry.”

“I did not realize you were referring to a date.”

“I'm referring to a date.”

Cas licked his lips. “I happily accept.”

Dean nodded, grinning. “Cas?”

“Dean.”

“If you're happy why aren't you smiling?”

Cas tipped his head to the side and smirked, blue eyes wide and dark. Dean's heart did a flip-flop. “Why aren't you kissing me?”

Dean groaned and flipped them, pushing Cas against the side of the stupid Cruiser and kissing him senseless.

.  
…  
.

Dean shivered as he stepped through the door and out of the early January cold. This was a different liquor store than the one he was used to but it wasn't like he could go back to Ash's place after the guy got himself arrested for hacking into the government database. The place was clean and brightly lit, sections of shelving clearly labeled. He didn't see anyone but that was no concern of his. He made for the beer.

After picking out a six pack he headed to the counter. He used the little bell that read 'please ring for assistance' and a thumping sound came from the back room in response.

A moment later a man with wild dark hair and unblinking blue eyes walked out with sure, quick steps. He might have been the most beautiful man Dean had ever seen. He was just a little shorter than Dean but managed to fill the space around him and look larger than he was, like the presence of his intent was larger than his body. It was unnerving.

“I apologize for the wait. I'm in the process of replacing the bell on the door. ” He said in a voice like gravel and whiskey that made Dean shiver. “How may I help you?”

“I just wanna get this beer.” Dean said, the picture of calm and confidence, as he hoisted said beer up to the counter. He watched as the strange man, his tag read Castiel but that couldn't actually be his name, twisted the beer around so that he could reach the bar code on the box. He didn't seem to have any problems moving the beer despite his wiry frame. His hands were quick and sure, his fingers long, and Dean's mouth went dry.

“I need to see ID please.” Castiel rumbled, looking Dean straight in the eye. He didn't blink and Dean thought he might have been drowning.

Dean fished his wallet out of his pocket, suddenly self-conscious about his ridiculous license photo, and fumbled with the card. He knew it was a bad idea to show the cute photographer 'blue steel'. If Castiel found his picture strange he didn't comment on it.

After Dean paid he turned to leave and Castiel said “Have a nice day, Dean.” In his gravelly voice. Dean shivered again with his name.

He tossed a wink over his shoulder. “See ya, Cas.”

If Castiel reacted Dean didn't see it.


End file.
